“Here stand ten men for Samavia. God be thanked!'' he said. He dared say that much, and he felt as if his father himself would have told him that they were the right words.
The Rat thought they were. Somehow he felt that they struck home. He reddened with a sudden emotion.
“Squad!'' he said. “I'll let you give three cheers on that.
It's for the last time. We'll begin to be quiet afterward.''
And to the Squad's exultant relief he led the cheer, and they were allowed to make as much uproar as they liked. They liked to make a great deal, and when it was at an end, it had done them good and made them ready for business.
The Rat opened the drama at once. Never surely had there ever before been heard a conspirator's whisper as hollow as his.
“Secret Ones,'' he said, “it is midnight. We meet in the depths of darkness. We dare not meet by day. When we meet in the daytime, we pretend not to know each other. We are meeting now in a Samavian city where there is a fortress. We shall have to take it when the secret sign is given and we make our rising.
We are getting everything ready, so that, when we find the king, the secret sign can be given.''
“What is the name of the city we are in?'' whispered Cad.
“It is called Larrina. It is an important seaport. We must take it as soon as we rise. The next time we meet I will bring a dark lantern and draw a map and show it to you.''
It would have been a great advantage to the game if Marco could have drawn for them the map he could have made, a map which would have shown every fortress--every stronghold and every weak place.
Being a boy, he knew what excitement would have thrilled each breast, how they would lean forward and pile question on question, pointing to this place and to that. He had learned to draw the map before he was ten, and he had drawn it again and again because there had been times when his father had told him that changes had taken place. Oh, yes! he could have drawn a map which would have moved them to a frenzy of joy. But he sat silent and listened, only speaking when he asked a question, as if he knew nothing more about Samavia than The Rat did. What a Secret Party they were! They drew themselves together in the closest of circles; they spoke in unearthly whispers.
“A sentinel ought to be posted at the end of the passage,''
Marco whispered.
“Ben, take your gun!'' commanded The Rat.
Ben rose stealthily, and, shouldering his weapon, crept on tiptoe to the opening. There he stood on guard.
“My father says there's been a Secret Party in Samavia for a hundred years,'' The Rat whispered.
“Who told him?'' asked Marco.
“A man who has been in Samavia,'' answered The Rat. “He said it was the most wonderful Secret Party in the world, because it has worked and waited so long, and never given up, though it has had no reason for hoping. It began among some shepherds and charcoal-burners who bound themselves by an oath to find the Lost Prince and bring him back to the throne. There were too few of them to do anything against the Maranovitch, and when the first lot found they were growing old, they made their sons take the same oath. It has been passed on from generation to generation, and in each generation the band has grown. No one really knows how large it is now, but they say that there are people in nearly all the countries in Europe who belong to it in dead secret, and are sworn to help it when they are called. They are only waiting. Some are rich people who will give money, and some are poor ones who will slip across the frontier to fight or to help to smuggle in arms. They even say that for all these years there have been arms made in caves in the mountains, and hidden there year after year. There are men who are called Forgers of the Sword, and they, and their fathers, and grandfathers, and great-grandfathers have always made swords and stored them in caverns no one knows of, hidden caverns underground.''
Marco spoke aloud the thought which had come into his mind as he listened, a thought which brought fear to him. “If the people in the streets talk about it, they won't be hidden long.''
